


Stellify

by invisibledeity



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Divergence, Changing Fate, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Mostly comfort tho, PTSD, Some Dark Subjects, also you can hardly be a communicator with the divine without having some mental issues so, and all the things that could have been, and gentiana is rather manipulative, but maybe also some body horror later, expect around twelve chapters maybe more, expect some healing sex in chapters to come though, ffxv ladies roadtrip fic, lesbian road trip, lunafreya gets agency, mostly psychological, rating may increase, this fic starts post-Kingsglaive film
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 10:29:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13432806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisibledeity/pseuds/invisibledeity
Summary: Lunafreya Nox Fleuret hears voices of the divine in her head. Born into a life of religious servitude, living under the rule of the power-hungry Empire, she has never been afforded the chance to have any kind of agency over her fate, nor the fate of others. But that all changes when she escapes the clutches of the Empire and meets a young mechanic named Cindy Aurum. Noctis and the boys are not the only ones about to embark on a roadtrip...





	Stellify

**Author's Note:**

> I have wanted to write this for a long time, particularly because I have been so struck by the differences between film!Luna and game!Luna. They seem almost like two different people. And there was so much potential for Luna that remained as latent energy as far as the game's storyline played out. I wanted to try something different. I wanted the girls to have a roadtrip.  
> Other characters will make appearances as it goes on, and I have some interesting ideas for how some of them will show up.  
> Also, sorry, Ardyn will definitely try to fuck things up. I'm not really intending on this going into noncon territory though. At least, not sexually.  
> In case you missed the tag warnings, there's more of a focus on psychological horror and personality manipulation in this one. Especially for Luna, but also for another character not introduced yet.

(Luna)

 

Lunafreya was five years old when the monster under her bed first spoke to her. It was a pivotal moment in her life, the moment that decided everything, that set her on a course for earth-moving events the likes of which nobody, not even her Oracle ancestors, had ever experienced.

            So perhaps, it would have been more correct to say that the monster was not so much under her bed as it was sitting gently at the foot of it, and that it was not really a monster, but a woman.

            The first thing the woman said to her was ‘You have nothing to fear,’ and this was strange, because if the woman was telling the truth, then why was she so afraid?

            There she lay, frozen against the pillow, with no idea of what to do.

            ‘I have a gift,’ the woman said, in her accent thick and strange as foreign candy, and Luna had looked at the light glowing around her hand in dubious wonder.

            ‘A gift?’

            ‘Oh, my child, there is still so much you have yet to discover.’ And then the monster with her kind, terrifying smile had leaned over her, hair like shadow falling across her face, and she pressed the glowing hand into Luna’s fragile five-year-old chest, filling her with an icy sensation that rattled her to the core. It hurt. It hurt, and it was so, so cold.

 

These days, Lunafreya had grown used to the cold. Nineteen years of communion with the Astrals — or at the very least, with some of them — was liable to do that. Right now, she was sitting in the foyer of the Citadel’s reception hall, waiting for the Royal reception party to begin. The day before the signing of the peace treaty, and she was here because — why? Because her function had been downgraded from Oracle to bargaining chip of the Empire.

            She did not like not having a say. And she detested being ripped from her holy duties like this. She was supposed to be in Altissia right now, waiting for Noctis, her husband-to-be. Already, the Altissians had arranged a few High Masses and healing ceremonies for her to attend, and she had been keen to see them through before meeting Noctis. But the Emperor, evidently, had other ideas.

            Her dress was form-fitting and made of thin silk. The kind of material that creased if one failed to sit just so. Backless, again for appearances’ sake, and while she agreed — it did look lovely — it did nothing for the chill.

            But who was she to complain?

            A soft touch on her shoulder. Worlds apart from the heavy metal thud that would have accompanied the touch of one the infantrymen currently flanking her. And there, that creeping unease. She was not afraid of the Magitek infantrymen. No, this was something internal, something on another plane entirely. The monster under her bed, the messenger of the Gods, her constant companion.

            ‘Hello, Gentiana,’ she said, keeping her voice calm and level. It would not do to shock the other attendees.

            — My child.

            The voice billowed back, gentle and blanketing as a spring wind, and Luna doubted she would ever stop feeling that light shiver upon hearing it. The spectral figure stepped in at her side, coming seemingly out of the wall itself, and she looked down upon her, eyes closed but seeing everything.

            — This signing ceremony will fail, you know that.

            She gave the briefest of nods in response.

            Inside her chest, the golden glow of the Oracle’s power told her that Gentiana was right, but of course, she already knew that. Gentiana was right about everything.

            Across from her, two girls waited, standing erect and patient, in perfect symmetry to the Magitek guards that flanked Lunafreya herself. Their hands lay clasped to their belts where ceremonial curved swords were fastened. Guards, by the look of them — members of the Kingsglaive, perhaps? — and despite their Insomnian outfits bearing the black and silver colours of the twilight nation, they were both quite beautiful. Not in the way that Gentiana was beautiful, but more … perky, as though the instant their shift was over they might not be averse to heading downtown for a latte and talking about … anything not related to the current political situation.

            Luna was jealous.

            ‘Excuse me, my Lady, but are you … are you the Oracle?’ One of the guards spoke, interrupting her insidious thoughts.

            ‘Indeed I am,’ she replied, calm and serene, and the guard smiled, her cheeks lighting up with the softest flush of red.

            ‘My grandfather met you once, in Tenebrae. Thank you for, um, for healing his leg. Its, ah, it’s an honour to meet you.’

            ‘An honour,’ her colleague said, flashing her almond eyes Luna’s way. ‘I know you’ve already got your Imperial guard an’ all, but … we’ll make sure no harm comes to you during your stay, my Lady.’

            Luna smiled. ‘Very kind of you.’ Again, her words made the girls smile, flush a little, and turn awkward, not knowing what to say. Celebrity had that effect on people.

            She set back to waiting. The light from the high, thin windows above cast the larvikite walls in a silvery glow, accentuating the shadows in the architecture around her.

_Bring me something the colour of the sun, instead of this constant, depressing twilight._

 

And then night fell. The meeting went exactly as predicted. A ruse, a cover, yet another incident of using Luna as bait, and by the heavens above, she was sick of that. The result was the City of Insomnia, laid to waste by the Niflheim forces. A replay of the scene that befell Tenebrae years ago, and —

            Stop that thought.

            At any rate, when the fighting began, the Kingsglaive guards had kept their word, although it wasn’t those two girls specifically that saved Luna’s skin. No, her saviours came in the form of a headstrong and selfless Glaive named Nyx, and his companion Libertus. The chaos that ensued saw almost everyone around her drop off like flies, crushed by machinery or shot by soldiers or mowed down by those huge daemonic beasts of the Empire. It was too much, it was —

            _For goodness’ sake, Luna, stop that thought._

 

It had grown light again by the time Lunafreya made it to the West Gate. She had said goodbye to Libertus only a short while ago, and now she slipped in alongside the fleeing citizens who had managed to make it to the walls. There were more alive than she had expected, and all of them were shuffling along in the chill of morning, still high on adrenaline but clearly cold and strained.

            Luna hardly shivered at all as she walked alongside the refugees. That’s what they were now, weren’t they? Yet another casualty of Niflheim’s relentless bid for power. For land. For supremacy, citizens and subjects be damned.

            — It does not do to dwell.

            — I know, Gentiana. I know.

            Her head was still spinning with the sounds of battle. The last thing she wanted was her dear companion joining in with the ringing in her ears. But, it seemed, Gentiana still had more to say, Luna’s wishes be damned, and the voice cut in at the edge of her senses, tickling her skin with its eerie echo.

            — Head up, but not so prim and proper. That’s right.

            — I’ve got it, Gentiana, you don’t need to remind me.

 _—_ That is good, child. Nobody will notice you with your dress in such a state.

            If she half-closed her eyes just right, she could see the solemn black-haired figure walking alongside her.

            She glanced down at her tattered silks. She would have to change out of them as soon as possible. Of course, as Gentiana said, the whole ensemble was dirtied and torn beyond almost all recognition, but the stiff, silver-embellished collar and the ornate metal wristlets were too much of a giveaway should anyone look more closely. Nobody had yet, in the chaos and the rush, and she was secretly relieved to have avoided the usual cacophony that surrounded her whenever she went out in public — _Lady Lunafreya, my Lady! Your Highness! Oracle! —_ but that was no guarantee for the future.

            The road was long, and after a mile had gone by, Luna relented, and took off her shoes. Letting the ridiculously high-heeled things dangle from an idle hand, she continued on.

            After the first waystation was passed, people began to disperse unevenly, in small groups. Further ahead lay the main blockade, and it was manned by a small contingent of Imperial guards. Still far too many to slip past unnoticed, despite her dishevelled appearance.

            Luna had no choice. She had to wait.

 

Round the back of a concrete wall now and she couldn’t rein in her fatigue any longer. A sigh of defeat, and she staggered to the ground. Grit bit into the torn silk that still clothed her, and it scratched at her thighs, but she had no energy to shift to a more comfortable position. Her every bone ached, her muscles twitching in overexertion, and yet she felt somehow numb, as though the last forty-eight hours had simply not happened.

            It was too much to cope with.

            — And yet. You excel at coping with tragedy.

            She didn’t even have the energy to tell Gentiana to quell her words. And she would have cried, if the divine power in her veins had allowed it. Instead, that golden light restricted around her neurons, blanketing the release of hormones that would otherwise allow her to _feel_.

            Not that it mattered. It was better to be numb. She had a job to do. She would leave as soon as the barricade was cleared of soldiers, or as soon as she gathered the strength to cross the mountains, whichever came first.

            Gentiana left her then, flitting between the boundaries of the visible and invisible worlds, and finally, Luna found the space to slip into dreams.

 

Voices clouded the dreams, because much as Luna liked to hope, she was never really alone, was she? Whispers from grand old voices, rising up in cacophony. Luna was a seed, a golden, glowing thing wrapped in layers of night, and around her, through the casing of the pod she slept in, flitted blue ethereal light. The shapes of kings long gone. The remnants of those who rose up and fought back the daemons the Empire had brought.

            The blue light raced, and in a horrifying moment, Luna realised they were weaving the fibres of the pod more heavily around her. Encasing her sacred power. Burying her in their attempts to keep it safe from The Enemy. No, not the Empire, there was something else out there, clothed in shadow, something that made her feel ill and nauseous, worse than when Gentiana drew near. Worse than that, but of the same divine variety of threat. Whatever it was, she was afraid, and she felt just like a child again.

            She didn’t want to be a bargaining chip any longer. She didn’t want to be trapped inside while the danger drew near. She struggled, but to no avail. The flashes of light, the feeling of her chest being fit to burst, the voices rising in holy orchestra both inside and outside of her head…

 

A harsh noise interrupted Luna’s hazy slumber. She shot upright, back straight, head held high, as if expecting to greet someone. A small veil of rain had passed over while she had slept, and it had left her damp and shivering slightly, although, again, she didn’t really feel it. She was more concerned about whoever was approaching.

            The noise grew clearer, and she realised it was the sound of barking. The newcomer wasn’t human. And no accompanying footfalls with the sound, so no need to act reserved here.

            It was Umbra. Up ahead, that familiar grizzled grey shape bounding into view. And, not far behind him, dear Pryna. Luna’s face cracked into a wide smile, far more childish and excited than the power would usually allow, and she fussed and petted the dogs when they drew close.

            Then Umbra wiggled his bottom, showing off the notebook strapped to his back, and that stung a nerve.

            _This silly little thing. I ought to have used it more._

She took it from the dog’s eager mouth and tenderly thumbed through the pages. Years of terrible handwriting (well, not on her part, at least) and sparse, yet awfully cute, attempts at communication between her and Prince Noctis. Hardly a basis for a proper relationship, but it warmed her heart. How pure things had seemed when they were children.

            She ought to start using it again. For the time being, it was the safest way to get messages to Noctis, and in light of what had just happened in Insomnia, plans would have to change.

            Pryna padded forward now, and Luna noticed something white, as white as the colour of Pryna’s fur, strapped to her back. She unstrapped it, folded out the fabric, so soft and satiny beneath her hands, and took a good look.

            ‘A change of clothing? Pryna, how thoughtful.’

            The white spisshund yapped and bowed her head, then backed off and set to licking her paw. Luna smiled, stroked her head gratefully, and returned her attentions to the dress.

            It was a shame the divine messenger hadn’t managed to pick up anything a bit more useful to wear, but then, she was a dog. She had tried her best.

            There was nobody around, but Luna hid behind a rock all the same. She peeled off the dirty layers of clothing, breathing a deep sigh of relief as her breasts were freed from the tight fabric and her back relaxed, her lungs given space to expand properly.

            Goodness, that outfit was not designed for the levels of activity it had just been put through. She reached a hand behind her, twisting her shoulder blade just so, until she had enough purchase to massage those lateral muscles that stretched across her back. In absence of a bra strap — thanks to the open-backed nature of the dress — it was the shoulders and the middle back that had undergone the most strain this time.

            She could do with a warm bath.

            The new outfit was, in a way, just as tight as her old one, although thankfully it lacked the metal bracelets and choker. She scrabbled to put it on as quick as she could.

            A noise nearby. Grit shifting on the ground. Footsteps slowed to a stop in front of her, and Luna was ready to jump back, to defend herself, but then the heady, cold sensation returned and she calmed herself.

            — I hope this will suffice.

            Gentiana, clothes pristine and hair unruffled by the biting wind. She was motioning toward the dress with one hand, the rest of her form inert as a statue and just as stately.

            Oh, of course it would be Gentiana’s choice, the dress. Luna bit back a sigh, rubbed her arms, and stood up properly.

            ‘I’m ready.’

 

The blockade now stood empty. All signs of Imperial activity, gone. Luna took her chances and walked on through, quietly and calmly. She half expected it to be a trap, but nobody stopped her.

            Leide was a new experience. A land of dust and heat, of broken down highway signs and lampposts with the glass smashed in. The dust was slightly dampened by the light rain that had passed, but the ground still gave off the impression of being parched, and that made it seem lonely. Power lines overhead loosely followed the road, but they seemed bowed over — an effect of too much wind, perhaps? — and Luna got the distinct impression that power supply put here was patchy at best.

            It couldn’t be entirely backwater, though. There had to be somewhere to stop nearby. A gas station or similar.

            She carried on down the road, sticking to the small verge barrier. No cars came toward her, and why would anyone attempt to head toward Insomnia right now, anyway? Only one vehicle passed her by from behind, but it was speeding away from the city as fast as its engine would take it.

            It was actually this car that gave her a clue on where to go next. She heard a chunter and a pop, and watched black smoke puffing up in the distance. The car slowed down rather erratically, and it turned into what had to be a layby. A little further and she was able to see round the small hillock that had hidden the place from view. A gas station. It was perfect.

            The garage looked a lot closer than it was, and by the time Luna arrived, she was utterly exhausted. She had tried to wear her shoes again and had resorted to taking them off; her feet were far too bruised. Her throat was parched and stray hairs stuck to her glistening forehead uncomfortably.

            Somehow, she made it. And the place was a lot bigger than she had hoped, sporting not only a gas station, but a maintenance garage, where the aforementioned car was currently housed, a shop and what looked like a diner just beyond it. She recognised the name on the entrance sign: ‘Hammerhead Garage.’ It was a name she had heard passed around in some highborn circles. Apparently something to do with an old acquaintance of King Regis’s?

            No space to wonder. She had to get herself organised.

            With great effort, Luna bent down to sit on the verge barrier. She had been intending to put her shoes back on, so she didn’t look like a complete wastrel when she entered the shop, but the instant she sat down, it was so relieving, so heavenly, that she had to stop for a while longer.

            She wanted to take in the scenery a little more, but her head ached. Her eyes were so tired, and her makeup must have run. She probably looked like a panda. Well, that worked in her favour right now — less people would recognise her in such a state, surely. And so, she closed her eyes to the world, let her head droop, and focussed on her breathing. The sun hit her back now, warming her skin. For a moment, it felt like heaven.

            ‘Well, howdy. You all right there, Miss?’

            Luna looked up. The woman standing before her was utterly gorgeous. Curly corn-coloured hair fraying out about her head in a glorious mess, and a small pixie face that beamed down kindness upon her. And those eyes, now. They were utterly entrancing; a green so deep Luna thought she would fall into it like it was a gravity well.

            Not to mention that the way the woman was posed, hand on jutting hip, tanned midriff showing below that miles-too-short mechanic’s jacket. Luna knew all about goddesses, had spent more time around divine entities than anyone else, and yet she knew that this creature right here, this was a true goddess.

            _Bring me something the colour of the sun_ , she had asked, and, it seemed, the universe had responded.

            Her heart was racing a thousand times too fast.

            What to say, what to say…

            — Composure, my child. Above all else, courtesy befitting of a princess of Tenebrae.

            ‘I … why, yes, I … I could perhaps do with something to drink, if you have it.’

            The woman opened her mouth, about to reply with gusto, then she looked at Luna, _really_ looked at her, and her smile faltered. Those emerald eyes damn near popped out of her head.

            ‘Hold up now, you’re … You’re Lady Lunafreya, arent’cha? Well, how about that.’

            ‘How … how did you…?’

            Now the woman looked abashed. She rubbed her neck and surveyed the horizon. ‘Aw, y’know, I just seen ya on the news an’ that. Always thought you were real stylish, like.’

            Luna smiled.

            ‘I am not sure about that last part, although it is very kind of you. But yes. It is as you say. I am Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…’

            ‘Hey now, s’all right. You don’t have to say a thing. We heard the reports about the city.’ Now the woman’s expression grew sad, and Luna thought she would have done anything to stop that expression crossing her face again. ‘Well. Enough about that.’ The woman tried to brighten her tone again. ‘The name’s Cindy. Pleasure to meet’cha.’ She brandished a hand, slightly greased with engine oil, then she looked down, seemed to realise that fact, and wiped it hastily on her shorts. ‘There y’are.’

            Luna smiled. ‘Nice to meet you, Cindy.’

            It really was a lovely name.

            Cindy beamed like Christmas had come early. It was utterly adorable. They shook hands, then Cindy cast her eyes back to the workshop.

            ‘I’ll leave Paw-paw with the work for now. Let’s get you somethin’ to drink, huh?’

 

Minutes later they were sat on the plastic chairs outside one of the caravans, a pitcher of iced tea between them and a pair of long glasses filled near to the brim.

            The tea was dark and incredibly sweet; a far cry from the pale, unsweetened amber brew Luna was used to in Tenebrae. She almost choked on the first gulp, and hoped desperately that Cindy would merely put it down to her throat being cracked and dry.

            ‘I am so sorry to impose on you like this,’ Luna said once she had wetted her palate.

            ‘Now, don’t you go about sayin’ such things. Paw-paw an’ me, we’re more than happy to help,’ Cindy said, kicking back in her chair and giving Luna that warm smile again. It was so _human_ , so comforting, so devoid of pomp and circumstance, and again Luna was drawn to her.

            She took another sip of iced tea.

            But then Cindy said, ‘Now, that Prince of yours, he passed by here not too long ago. Had an inkling you’d wanna know.’

            Luna felt her eyebrows crease. Golden light tickling her spine, cloying shadows and a brush of black hair in the corner of her eye that nobody else could see.

            — Careful, child.

            — I am being.

            She was hardly going to mention the ring, now.

            To Cindy, she said, ‘Does he know about Insomnia? Did he get the news? Is he safe?’

            Cindy sighed, apparently trying to formulate words.

            ‘Sorry,’ Luna said. ‘That was a lot of questions.’

            ‘Ain’t nothing to worry about, Lady Lunafreya.’

            ‘Please, just Luna is fine.’

            ‘Heh, if you say so. Luna.’ Cindy seemed to taste the word on her tongue, hesitant and still incredibly reverent. ‘Luna. Yeah, that suits you better anyways.’ Then she continued. ‘Prince Noctis is doin’ just fine. Well, considering. He’s safe, had him chasing down some varmints for me yesterday while I fixed up his car. That entourage of his — well, they look like a regular boyband but don’t let that fool ya, they’re as capable as they come. Said they’d be heading out to Lestallum.’

            Luna wanted to gasp, to hold her hand to her heart in joy, but the golden light in her veins stopped her. The command was far more persuasive than she.

            — Composure, above all else.

            Of course. She settled for breathing out in a near-silent sigh. ‘I’m glad. I…’

_Noctis. Oh, why can nothing be simple?_

_I think I want a hug. Or, at least, to break out of this … this…_

            The energy tickling, nibbling at her spine increasing in fervency in its efforts to dampen her emotions, and for a split second, blackness veiled her vision. She wanted to close her eyes. Turn off. Stop the frisson. Nausea gripped her again, and she feared the iced tea would come up all over the little plastic table. Gosh, no, that would be embarrassing, that would —

            What had she been about to say?

            Whatever it was, it had slipped from her grasp.

            ‘Ah, never mind.’

            _Just drift. Let it escape you. It’s not important._

            Cindy was looking at her with concern in those viridian eyes.

            ‘You should get some rest before you start making any plans.’ Oh gosh, was it that obvious? Luna felt awfully exposed in that instant, but luckily, Cindy didn’t seem interested in poking at the issue. She seemed far too matter-of-fact for that. ‘You can stay here, if you fancy. It’s safe enough — ain’t no varmints bold enough to break the perimeter. Though … I’m guessing it ain’t varmints you’re worried about.’

            ‘I … guess not. I … Thank you, Cindy, for the offer.’ Luna gathered her composure and glanced back at the caravan behind her.

            Cindy’s eyes widened. ‘Oh! Heavens, no, I didn’t mean there. We have proper rooms in the house. Just behind the garage. The guest room’s a lot nicer. And ‘sides, the shower’s a lot better than in this poky thing.’ She grinned, and Luna found herself grinning too. Something about this woman’s demeanour calmed her, made her feel less anxious about the … the world that raged on in those other planes that nobody else could see. The world she was cursed, no, blessed, with living in between. Never cursed, no, she wasn’t cursed.

            — Accept her offer.

            — I was intending to.

            ‘Thank you, Cindy. I cannot tell you just how much I appreciate this.’

            Cindy rubbed her neck again, and — was that a pink glow hitting her cheeks? ‘Aw, no need to get so formal on me. Ain’t a problem. Now, how’s about we go say hi to Paw-paw and get you sorted?’


End file.
